


Guardia Vieja

by Krykl



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:14:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28379820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krykl/pseuds/Krykl
Summary: “Early tango was played by immigrants in Buenos Aires, then later in Montevideo. The first generation of tango players from Buenos Aires was called "Guardia Vieja" (the Old Guard). It took time to move into wider circles; in the early 20th century, it was the favorite music of thugs and gangsters who visited brothels, in a city with 100,000 more men than women (in 1914). The complex dances that arose from such rich music reflect how the men would practice the dance in groups, demonstrating male sexuality and causing a blending of emotion and aggressiveness.”Wikipedia  - “Tango music”https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tango_music
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	Guardia Vieja

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Youtube for some reason deciding to show me this video.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NOJ0m9G5PqI
> 
> The whole "Old Guard" reference in Wikipedia is real, and I didn't know it until I was checking how early it was danced. Now that is kismet. In case you need more....  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NOJ0m9G5PqI  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B9Dk2jvQxgI  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e_ld91XqVBc  
> https://sketchyarkhive.tumblr.com/image/625267635786022912

The walkway beside the Seine goes on for miles. Along this stretch of the river the walkway is old and cobblestoned. Tied alongside, houseboats and party barges bob gently in the eddies of the passing boats. Their lights glittering off the dark water.

The five immortals stroll in a tight cluster under the bridges. The Eiffel Tower sparkles ahead of them. Overhead, the lights on the street level of nighttime Paris throw dark shadows cut by the lights of the house boats and barges as they walk past. A boat of tourists glides down the center of the ancient river and shines a spotlight onto the carved details of the bridge as they passed under it. The amplified voice of a tour guide drones on about the long-forgotten builders. Tourists snap pictures and useless flashes spark like fireflies in the night.  
Booker’s voice rises and falls as he regales Nile with tales of the great floods of 1910, all in slightly drunken French and his arm warm over Nile’s shoulder. The dark navy wool tickles the back of Nile’s neck, exposed with her hair piled on the top of her head in cascades of circled braids. The light glints off the huge gold hoops hanging from her ears and the gold spangles of her frothy skirt. She does her best to steer him away from the water’s edge.

Slightly ahead of them, Joe and Nicky stroll side by side. Joe in a dark blue double-breasted jacket and white shirt, rucked up as he supports a drowsy Andy on his back, her head tucked over his shoulder and her arms hanging around his neck with one hand hanging on to his tie like the reins on a horse. Nicky, in a velvet lapeled black jacket and black shirt, saunters beside them holding Andy’s ridiculous heels, occasionally pushing Andy back up as she slips down Joe’s back, and then pulling down the skirt of her tight spangled dress. Andy rubs her cheek against Joe’s beard, knocking her rhinestone Grecian headband slightly askew.

“Ah, a dance barge!” Booker points at a flat barge ahead of them. Music floats over the water. The barge is brilliantly lit by colored lights hung in strands. At one end of the barge, a small band drinks on break on one end and couples dance on a wooden dance floor to recorded music. A bar at other end serves champagne in plastic flutes. Niles squeals, slips out from under Bookers arm and grabs his hand . She him after her as she speeds up, expertly navigating the cobblestones in her ridiculous heels. At Nile’s squeal, Andy lifts her head from Joe’s shoulder and peers at the barge.

“A bar!” She pushes off Joe’s back, almost toppling him over and dropping her. Nicky catches her with one hand and Joe with the other. She shakes him off, snags her shoes, and darts ahead grabbing Nile’s free hand and pulling her, as she pulls Booker. Nicky takes Joe’s hand, and they continue to stroll, in no hurry to catch up with the rest of their family.  
By the time they do catch up, Booker has his wallet out and is paying their entrance fee. Nile and Andy bounce on their toes at the end of the gang plank.  
“Amusez-vous bien.” The attendant shouts as he gestures them to cross. Needing no further encouragement, Nile grabs Andy’s hand and they dart over the wooden planks and onto the barge. Their gowns, silver and gold, sparkle under the lights.  
“I want to dance!” Nile calls back over her shoulder to Booker as he drags Andy to the dance floor.  
“Merci!” Booker says to the attendant in French, walking quickly onto the barge. The attendant waves Joe and Nicky on board with a grin and a wink at the handsome couple.  


The recorded dance music is a modern club beat and Nile and Andy bounce happily. Both women attract admirers as they dive deeper into the crowd. Booker drifts toward the bar, followed by Joe and Nicky. The three lean over the bar and order champagne. While they wait, Nicky straightens Joe’s tie and pats his husband’s labels.  
“You look good,” he says, and the corner of his lips quirk up in his signature tiny smile. Joe returns it with a toothy grin and crinkled eyes. He’s about to lean in when Booker announces.  
“There’s champagne!” He balances a handful of glasses precariously clasped by their stems in his broad fingers. Nile and Andy appear just as suddenly in their corner of the dance floor glistening with sweat and flushed. Booker hands Andy a plastic flute and Nicky hands one to Nile. The foot of the plastic flute falls off and rolls off the barge. “I guess I have to finish it then!” Nile laughs and raises her glass.  
“Trinquons,” Booker raises his glass. Glasses tap with a murmured chorus of “Tchin-Chin” and “Sante.” and then the sip or swig their drinks.  
Nicky’s gaze drifts to the bandstand. The band announces their next set and strikes up the first strains of a tango.  
“Dance with me?” Joe asks, setting his glass on the low table. He holds out his hand to his husband.  
“Dance?” Niles perks up. “You dance?” Looking expectant between Joe and Nicky. Joe’s hand still held out.  
Nicky takes a long sip of his drink and sets it down. He shrugs off his coat, handing it to Andy. Joe shrugs his off and hands it to Booker. Joe smiles and holds his hand out again. Nicky takes a deep breathe, cricks his neck, takes Joe’s hand and they step out onto the dance floor.  
“Woah. They are serious about this,” Nile says looking to Booker or Andy for a reaction.  
“I don’t know.” Booker answers honestly.  
“Andy?”  
Andy smiles and points with her chin taking another sip of champagne.  
“Maybe. Tango started in Argentina at the turn of the century. They were there. It was very popular, and men often danced the tango with other men. Very macho.”

An accordion, drum, and piano play a throbbing Tango beat. At first, Joe and Nicky step side by side, shoulder to shoulder, gliding across the floor to the music. Upper body’s stiff and arms held out to their sides. Nile doesn’t think she has ever seen Nicky stand so straight as he somehow both struts and slides across the barge. “Damn, he’s got wide shoulders,” she thinks. Joe is more elegant, and he floats where Nicky cuts through the air.

The other dancers sense something special is about to happen and clear a path. Nicky suddenly pivots and he’s facing Joe and stepping backwards. But they are still in sync to the music, in unison with each other, their bodies an arm’s length apart. Joe steps back and Nicky follows as if pulled to him by a magnetic force. Joe turns away, Nicky catches his arm and spins him to face him. The music intensifies and now they are clasping forearms. This is not the sensual flirting of a traditional tango, but something more primitive, combative. They push and pull at each other, spinning, kicking up a heel every few turns. Occasionally, turning away from each other and then back into a grapple. Nicky’s hair has fallen over his eyes and they are a dark veil. He lips are parted slightly and he’s growling at his partner tilting his head as a challenge and invitation. Joe’s smile has morphed into a half-snarl answering back.

The music slows and the two men draw closer, clasping hands and shoulders, chests closer. This Nile recognizes as the traditional Tango. Their feet step kick and step into each other’s space. Flicking and slipping around and around each other. Where before it was all aggression and challenge, this is cooperation. They take sharp precise turns as they cross the dance floor. Each measure of music brings them closer and closer until they are sharing breath, chest to chest, thigh to thigh, and Joe’s hand is on Nicky’s back with the other clasped at arm’s length. Joe leads Nicky around the dance floor as one being.

Nile bumps shoulders with Booker.  
“They aren’t even looking at each other,” she says enchanted.  
The music changes again, becoming more energetic. Joe pushes Nicky off and spins away, dropping to one knee his arms outstretched. Nicky stalks towards Joe reaching for him. They clasp forearms, Nicky pulls Joe to his feet and back into his embrace, and take matching mincing steps and turn. They release and reconnect, changing leads.

Joe tries a small leap as the music crescendos, Nicky carries him as they spin balanced on his hip. A spattering of applause rewards them as he lands, which Nile joins in. Her eyes can’t leave the couple. A few more steps and Nicky dips Joe and plants a kiss totally ignoring the surrounding crowd. He lifts Joe back upright and the stand for a moment, breathing deeply from the exertion.

The song changes and a guitar takes over and a woman’s voice croons. Joe and Nicky collapse into each other’s arms leaning into each other, Joe tucking his head into Nicky’s neck and slowly they circle the dance floor in a measured two-step. The other couples rejoin and soon the two men are hidden from Nile’s view. Nile's checks Booker and Andy for their reactions. They are both peering into the crowd their mouths slightly ajar.  
“You didn’t know they could do that.” Nile announces grinning. Booker shakes his head, reaches into his pocket and hands a handful of cash to Andy. Andy laughs taking the money.  
“We didn’t even bet!” Andy admits.  
“I would have lost anyway.” Booker drawls. He puts his glass down and hold his hand out to Nile. “I can’t do that, but I won’t step on your feet.” He promises. Nile takes another drink and lays the empty flute down.  
“Andy?”  
“Go on.” Andy says swapping her empty flute for one of the full ones. “I'll get the next round, but I get the next dance.”

Booker doesn’t step on Nile's feet. Andy does takes turns dancing with all of them, including a group Electric Slide, which they all apparently know and have to teach to Nile. They dance until the band packs up, and the five immortals stagger back to their hotel with Booker carrying Andy on his back, Nicky carrying Nile, and Joe carrying their shoes while regaling them with tales of him and Nicky learning to dance from a gangster in Buenos Aires.


End file.
